


Under My Skin

by syriala



Series: Steter Week 2018 [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Florist Peter Hale, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Tattoo Artist Stiles Stilinski, Tattooed Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 14:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15438975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syriala/pseuds/syriala
Summary: Peter was just finishing up the last flower arrangement for the day when the bell above the door chimed.Peter looked up, his customer smile already in place, but he was taken aback when he saw who had entered the shop. He didn’t look like Peter’s usual customers, tattoos and piercings all over, but then again, people always said Peter wasn’t the usual type to open up a flower shop. Too grumpy and sarcastic to handle beautiful things and too rough to handle them with the care they deserved.





	Under My Skin

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Steter Week Day 5, Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor was the prompt and since I couldn't remember ever seeing Peter as the florist in this combination I simply had to do it.

Peter was just finishing up the last flower arrangement for the day when the bell above the door chimed.

Peter looked up, his customer smile already in place, but he was taken aback when he saw who had entered the shop. He didn’t look like Peter’s usual customers, tattoos and piercings all over, but then again, people always said Peter wasn’t the usual type to open up a flower shop. Too grumpy and sarcastic to handle beautiful things and too rough to handle them with the care they deserved.

“Hello,” Peter greeted the man and his eyes snapped towards Peter.

“Hi,” the man said and walked up to the counter. “I heard you’re the one to come to for the supernatural inclined herbs.”

At that Peter squared his shoulders. He made it very clear that he wouldn’t be dealing with hunters, under no circumstances.

“Depends on who you are,” Peter coldly gave back, and the man blinked at him.

“I’m Stiles,” he said, confusion obvious in his voice and Peter shook his head.

“And what, exactly, are you?” Peter asked and looked Stiles over once again.

The tattoos could indicate everything from druid, over mage, to fanatic and hunter, and Peter didn’t want to play the guessing game.

“I’m a spark,” Stiles told him with a shrug and Peter narrowed his eyes at him.

“That’s rare,” he gave back, and Stiles tilted his head a bit.

“So is a werewolf owning a flower shop, but you don’t see me judging, do you?” he asked and Peter couldn’t help the smile.

“Fair enough. So, what do you need?” he asked, and Stiles put his arms on the counter, leaning forward just a little bit.

Peter’s eyes were drawn to the ink again, he had never been able to help himself with that. Tattoos were fascinating and Stiles’ especially. There didn’t seem to be a theme going on, Peter could see flowers and signs, animals and even an anchor just on his left arm, and he was sure there was more to discover all over Stiles’ body.

“So I take it you don’t have any tattoos,” Stiles said with a smirk, clearly following Peter’s gaze.

“And how would you know that?” Peter wanted to know and mentally scolded himself. He usually was better than blatant staring.

“You have that look,” Stiles gave back and gestured at his face. “Afraid of commitment?”

Peter thought back to the only commitment he had ever had. His family. There were laughably few left of the Hales, and certainly no one to stay committed to. Derek had pulled away as soon as he had revealed that Kate had used and raped him, Laura blamed Peter for only getting himself out of the house and Cora had spent so much time away from them, Peter wasn’t even sure she counted as family anymore.

His wolf certainly didn’t recognize her.

No, commitment had never been his problem. He had given everything he had for his family and now he would give anything to proudly display the Hale symbol on his skin, and not just on a pendant around his neck; to honour and remember his family that way, but he couldn’t.

The burns he had endured had been severe enough to put him into a coma for six years; he could barely light a match, let alone let anyone with a blow torch near enough to permanently burn a tattoo in his skin.

“What can I do for you?” Peter asked again, voice noticeably colder and Stiles raised an eyebrow at him, before pulling away from the counter.

“Right. Here’s what I need,” he said clearly picking up on the fact that his comment hadn’t been appreciated and slammed a list on the counter.

This, Peter could do.

~*~*~

Stiles became somewhat of a fixture in Peter’s shop afterwards. He always had something he needed, and if not, he dropped by anyway, just to let Peter know that he didn’t currently had anything to order.

Peter would be annoyed by that, having Stiles in his shop nearly every day, having his scent seep into the shop, noticeable even through the flowers, especially since their first encounter went so poorly, but Peter was too pleased to see the young man in his space, too happy to talk to him. Stiles had worn him down quickly with his wit and sarcasm.

Stiles was bright, easy to talk to, and could almost put Peter’s sarcasm to shame. Peter was looking forward to having Stiles in his space every day, and he was sure he was hiding it very badly, going by the knowing smile Stiles always had when Peter greeted him a little too enthusiastically.

Peter had discovered a few more tattoos on Stiles, could tell that they wormed their way over his shoulders, chest and back, but he only ever got glimpses and it nearly drove him mad. Peter wanted to discover all of them, learn them and trace them with his tongue, but he always pushed that want down hard.

Stiles flirted, sure, but it seemed like that was just who he was, as a person. It didn’t seem for Peter specifically and Peter didn’t want to chase his favourite customer away. So he kept on staring and desperately trying to not reach out for Stiles.

“I know you want a tattoo,” Stiles offhandedly said while lounging around in the shop, not even pretending to need something today. “What stops you? Why not just get one?” Stiles asked him, since he apparently caught Peter staring at his tattoos yet again.

It wasn’t even necessarily that Peter wanted one too at this point, though that was still true, but the fact that Stiles had them. Peter might just have a thing for that.

“You know what I am,” he said instead of voicing his thoughts and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Werewolf,” he answered, and even though he didn’t say ‘Duh’ it was clearly audible in his voice.

“You know what happened to my family,” Peter went on, and raised an eyebrow at Stiles.

“They died in a fire,” Stiles solemnly gave back, because they had talked about that at one point. There wasn’t much he and Stiles didn’t talk about.

“There you have it then,” Peter said with a little gesture, but Stiles only frowned at him.

“I don’t understand? What does one have to do with the other?” Stiles wanted to know, and Peter rolled his eyes at him.

For all that Stiles could be so bright, he sometimes missed the most obvious connections.

“You really think after nearly dying in a fire I’m going to let anyone with a flame even close to me?” Peter spelled it out for Stiles who continued to frown at Peter.

“What does that have to do with getting a tattoo?” Stiles inquired, confusion clearly written all over his face.

“You’re a tattoo artist, you should know,” Peter said, while pushing some sheets on his counter around.

Stiles suddenly sat up straight and looked intently at Peter.

“Are you telling me that someone told you they had to burn the ink in?” he asked, and his voice was dangerously low.

“That’s how it’s done, isn’t it?” Peter asked, now frowning himself, because that was what Derek had told him.

Peter hadn’t bothered to look into it further, after that.

“Jesus Christ,” Stiles whispered with emphasis. “That’s not— Peter, that’s not how it’s done anymore, that’s barbaric” Stiles urgently said. “Why do you think I need so much wolfsbane all the time?” he asked, and Peter shrugged.

“I thought you had a potion making business at the side,” he admitted freely, because that was the only thing that made sense.

“I don’t,” Stiles told him. “I infuse my ink with wolfsbane and a little bit of magic,” he wiggled his fingers at Peter, “so that the ink stays on all kind of creatures. There is no need for fire in that process anywhere.”

“So, there’s one shop in America who doesn’t need fire,” Peter scoffed. “And you expect me to have found that one shop.”

“I sell my ink,” Stiles told him with an eyeroll. “I have a lot of customers, but not even I could use up that much ink in a week. I love coming here, but I really do need all that wolfsbane, you know. I have supplied at least half of America with the ink.”

“I didn’t really look that much into it,” Peter admitted. “My nephew told me once how he got his and after what happened, I just thought it would be another thing that’s not happening for me.”

“But you can have a tattoo, Peter. I’ll even do it for free, just for you,” Stiles told him with a wink and Peter was glad he wasn’t the type to blush.

“I—I need to think on that,” Peter lowly said because this was a huge thing all of a sudden.

It was easy to say you wanted something if you damn well knew it would never happen, and then suddenly having that option open again.

“Sure,” Stiles easily agreed and slouched back over the counter. “I’ll be here,” he said, and Peter got the distinct impression that he wasn’t just talking about today.

“I know,” he gave back and carefully touched his fingertips to the tattoo on the back of Stiles’ hand.

~*~*~

“I want one,” Peter said two weeks later, Stiles slumped over his counter again.

The regulars didn’t even bat an eyelash at Stiles being there; instead they asked where he was when they didn’t see him. Peter couldn’t say he was mad that Stiles became such a fixture in Peter’s shop.

At Peter’s words Stiles became slightly more alerted.

“Alright,” he gave back. “But?” he asked then, because he knew Peter well enough now to realize that there was something he hadn’t said yet.

“I need to see it first,” Peter admitted.

He believed Stiles, he did, but he had also believed that there would be a blowtorch for almost three years and it was hard to shake that image. He needed proof.

“I thought so,” Stiles said with a small smile. “Erica’s been waiting to get a new tattoo, but I told her to wait for you.”

“What?” Peter asked, totally taken aback by Stiles.

“I knew you would come around,” he gave back with a shrug. “She has enough tattoos that waiting for a new one for a week or two won’t hurt her.”

“And she’s a werewolf.”

“And she’s a werewolf,” Stiles confirmed. “She already agreed that you could watch, so I’ll set up an appointment with you two.”

Peter couldn’t help the smile that spread out on his face. Stiles really knew him too well by now.

“Thank you,” Peter said and pushed his fingers through Stiles’ hair, who leaned into the contact, but didn’t look away from his phone, clearly already talking to Erica.

“You’re welcome,” he mumbled, and Peter almost couldn’t stand the fond feeling that spread out in his chest.

~*~*~

“And that’s all there is to it,” Stiles said as he wrapped up Erica’s new tattoo.

It had barely taken an hour to get the flower onto her wrist and just as Stiles promised there had been no fire involved anywhere.

“And it’s going to stay and will not just vanish after she walks out of here?” Peter asked, mostly to be a little shit.

He liked the way Stiles eyes seemed to blaze golden when he got all angrily defensive.

“Are you doubting my sincerity?” Stiles asked, voice indignant. “Do you think I would lie to you?” he almost hissed and there was that golden sheen to his eyes.

“Ah,” Erica suddenly said from the side and tapped her nose. “Now that makes much more sense,” she said and smirked at Peter.

He narrowed his eyes at her, daring her to say what she just smelled, but her smile gentled suddenly.

“I think I’ll be leaving now. I’ll sent Stiles a pic in an hour, so you can be sure that it’s still there,” she told them with a wink and sauntered out of the shop.

“I can show you the pic tomorrow then, with the time stamp and everything, so you believe me,” Stiles said, and his voice sounded off.

“Stiles,” Peter softly said. “I’m not going to wait till tomorrow. I’m not even going to wait for an hour,” he told him.

“What?” Stiles asked, startled and turned wide eyes on Peter.

“Do you have time now?” Peter asked and walked closer to the chair Erica had sat in.

“I do,” Stiles said almost hesitantly.

Peter got his phone out, pulling up a picture of the triskelion he wanted and showed it to Stiles.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Stiles nodded, and got his equipment ready. “Where do you want it?”

“I want it here,” Peter said and took his shirt off without preamble, pointing at the skin right over his heart.

“Uh, shirtless on our first date,” Stiles said and winked at him. “I still got it, apparently.”

“Sweetheart, this is at least our fiftieth date. I’d say we’ve been taking it slow enough,” Peter gave back with a wink of his own and thoroughly enjoyed the blush spreading out on Stiles’ face.

Stiles quickly got everything ready, sketching the triskelion onto Peter’s skin and after one last look to make sure that Peter really wanted this, he started his gun.

It barely took forty minutes and then Stiles declared them done. There was no pain from the wolfsbane and no itch to indicate that it was healing, and Peter looked down at it, marveling at the black ink against his skin.

Stiles stepped closer, wiping up the excess ink and wrapping it up, eyes trained on his task.

“You promise you always have to come to me for this,” Stiles lowly told him, and Peter rolled his eyes, even as he pulled Stiles between his legs.

“As if there was anyone else I would trust to do this,” he whispered against Stiles’ lips right before he leaned in.

Stiles met him willingly, deepening the kiss after a few seconds and Peter couldn’t help the low growl. He had been waiting too long to do this.

When they parted Peter noticed with satisfaction that flushed was a very good look on Stiles.

~*~*~

Three years later Peter got Stiles’ name tattooed right under the Hale triskelion, whereas Stiles’ got the triskelion on his hipbone. It was the only wedding ceremony they needed.


End file.
